


Got me spinning like a ballerina

by sunandoceanblue



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Evil Space Boyfriends, Kylux - Freeform, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, ballet headcanon, hux is into ballet, kylo loves it, like seriously
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-19
Updated: 2016-03-19
Packaged: 2018-05-27 17:22:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6293203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunandoceanblue/pseuds/sunandoceanblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Can I watch?” He doesn’t mean to ask. Because he knows what the answer will be. But in his mind, he is just replaying the way Hux moves over and over and is becoming ridiculously turned on (shamelessly so). The words just came tumbling out.</p><p>As he suspects, Hux frowns, taking a half-step back. “I’d rather you didn’t,” he says lowly. Though never usually a self-conscious man, this is one secret he isn’t good at showing to others. But there’s something there. The choice of words, an offering, a sublet hint for Kylo to keep begging. At least, Kylo’s going to assume so anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Got me spinning like a ballerina

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a conversation between myself and [swingandswirl](http://swingandswirl.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr and also because I shamelessly have a new found headcanon that Hux is into ballet. Though I know little about it so forgive me if the terms I’ve used are all wrong.
> 
> (Titled inspired by a line from Queen of Disaster by Lana Del Rey, which as a totally fitting song for these two losers.)

It isn’t unusual for Kylo to infrequently wake throughout the night.

Cold sweats, gasping for breath, clutching his chests. Struggling to slow his heart rate after awakening from dreams (nightmares) he can barely remember minutes after. Names, faces, reaching out and calling to him. Blood.

 _So much blood_.

He kicks the covers off and stands on shaky legs.

It’s only then he discovers his lover is missing. Frowning, Kylo foolishly inspects the bed closer, as if Hux is suddenly going to appear before him, yawning and telling him to _go bed to sleep, Ren—my shift starts in a few hours, dammit._

Kylo rubs his hands over his face. He doesn’t want to go back to sleep, despite what the time is. Maybe he could head to the gym. Get an early start. He tugs on his pants sluggishly.

Then he hears the music.

Soft and calm. Played by elegant sounding instruments he couldn’t name to save himself. He’d never been very virtuosic.

Hux on the other hand...

Kylo pads over to the bedroom door, quietly tapping at the datapd to open it, wincing at how loud it is.

However, Hux, who is in the middle of his living quarters, doesn’t hear. His eyes are closed and his breathing calm, despite the exercise he is doing. Wearing a grey singlet and a loose pair of trousers that tighten at the ankles. Probably not his preferred clothing for this but he probably couldn’t put in the effort to want to wear something else.

He’s barefooted, toes skimming across the ground like he’s weightless. Then suddenly, the weight falls to his left leg, straight and steady, while his right flicks up behind him and he stretches his arms outwards. He holds the position for a few seconds and then just falls, teetering across the floor and performing the position once more, on opposite legs. Then he’s falling again. So fluid—so damn fluid. An endless motion, moving from one position to the next in a seamless string.

The cold and ruthless General Hux, so tightly wound, so impossibly serious, gliding across the hard floor of his living quarters, in _perfect_ time with the soft melody.

And all Kylo can do is stare. This is the longest he’s ever got to watch Hux dance. Something akin to guilt stirs in him. He _shouldn’t_ be watching, he feels. Too personal, too full of soul.

It’s too late to feel guilty, though, because Hux opens his eyes and they immediately lock with Kylo’s. His movements falter instantly and he falls out of time to music, coming to a complete standstill. Hands falling to his sides and posture straightening, Hux seems almost reluctant to return to this stance. He must have been enjoying himself.

Hux does let’s his posture lax slightly when his mind catches up with him and he realises it’s only his lover. “Oh. Did I wake you?”

Perhaps once Hux would have been furious about the interruption; going red in the face with anger and embarrassment, shouting _get the fuck_ out _, Ren—now._

That was before Hux allowed Kylo to stay almost every night, whenever Kylo pleased.

With a shrug, Kylo props his arm against the doorframe, leaning his weight on it. “No. Not really. I woke myself up.”

“Ah.” Hux swings his arms absently. “Are—well, are you alright, Kylo?”

“’M, fine.” Kylo waves a dismissive hand, sweeping the hair from his eyes. “What about you? Can’t sleep?”

The older man folds his arms across his chest, forcing them to stop swinging. “I was inspired, I supposed.” He looks so put out of place and Kylo feels the guilt grow for breaking his concentration.

As far as Kylo knows, Hux has never really danced in front of anyone (expect maybe Phasma). Only, in his most private moments, only when he is completely alone will he ever practice. For fear of being mocked, though less of. Really, he’s always ready to challenge anyone who dares to laugh at him for taking interest in something as feminine as ballet – something that holds no place in the First Order military let alone by the _General._

Kylo’s only ever caught glimpses and simply based on that – and from what Phasma has told him – Hux is rather talented. Immensely smart, tactile and resourceful, relying heavily on the mind and thoroughly enjoying and advancing in engineering and academics... who knew Hux is into the arts? Not Kylo. He recalls the first time he caught Hux dancing; the older man shook with anger and forced Kylo to swear he’d never tell anyone and wouldn’t invite Kylo into his quarters for over two weeks. After that, even as they grudgingly grew closer, they didn’t talk about it much and Kylo certainly never mocked Hux. In fact, he’s always been a little fascinated.

He not sure what the full extent of Hux’s talents are; the General dabbles in at least a few styles but his strong point, his favourite, his _aptitude_ , is ballet.

The music plays quietly in the background, thankfully filling their awkward silence.

“Are you coming back to bed soon?” Kylo asks idly, pretending he isn’t pathetically dependent on having Hux beside him to fall asleep.

It’s strange, this new side to their relationship. Both of them have agreed, reluctantly so, that they’ve discovered a new facet that started as nothing but fucking and loathing one another. An ugly co-dependency, shameful really. Nothing but pain and shouting and blood and far too much kissing and definitely too much cuddling. But, _oh,_ how Kylo’s addicted to it. How he keeps on coming back for more (and more and more and more).

“Um. No, not yet.” Hux gestures towards the bedroom. “I’ll come soon, lover. I’d like to practice some more.”

“Can I watch?” He doesn’t mean to ask. Because he knows what the answer will be. But in his mind, he is just replaying the way Hux moves over and over and is becoming ridiculously turned on (shamelessly so). The words just came tumbling out.

As he suspects, Hux frowns, taking a half-step back. “I’d rather you didn’t,” he says lowly. Though never usually a self-conscious man, this is one secret he isn’t good at showing to others. But there’s something there. The choice of words, an offering, a sublet hint for Kylo to keep begging. At least, Kylo’s going to assume so anyway.

“Please?” Kylo pressed, shifting his frame upright. “You look—I like watching.”

Hux is still hesitant and Kylo isn’t above playing dirty to get what he wants.

“Please, my General?”

The older man exhales and then nods his head slowly. “Okay,” he says. “Okay, but don’t get in my way, please.”

Kylo resists the urge to grin in triumph. There seems to be very little Hux isn’t willing to give him nowadays.

Hux nods once more and turns, arms and legs both moving into first position. He takes a deep breath to steady himself and counts himself in to the rhythmic beat of the music.

And he starts.

Sauntering forward, arms opening, leaning, stretching. And then cascading across the room. He’s silent, aside from his breathing and the sound of his feet lightly bouncing across the floor. He doesn’t look at Kylo; his eyes remain closed for a majority of it.

He bends at the knee swiftly and then smoothly jumps in the air (a _sauté_ , his mind supplies, from the very few moves Hux has named for him) bare toes pointed, hands outstretched in front of him, long fingers curled inwards. He lands and takes off again. Another flawlessly executed jump. Another flawlessly executed landing. Taking off again.

Hux leaps, almost performing the splits. Kylo knows he can; dancing providing him with wonderous amounts of flexibility. Said flexibility has proved to be very interesting in bed – and Hux does so look lovely when he’s riding Kylo; back arched elegantly in the way only he can manage.

When he lands, Hux curls in on himself, pauses for a fraction of a second, and then stretches out, like elastic, feet falling across the floor in a seemingly mindless pattern. Though hardly Force-sensitive, at this moment, Hux all of a sudden seems very attune with it. In perfect control of each and every one of his actions, all random, happening in real time, on the spot, letting himself fall where he falls but with _absolute grace_.

But then, oh, _stars_ , he’s spinning. Arms reaching upwards, feet looking like they should tangle. But _of course_ they don’t. They never will. And he’s running, towards Kylo, and he bends at the knees once more before suddenly he’s up in the air. Time seems to slow down all together and Hux hangs there, a handsome, looming angel, before twirling just so and landing his flawless pirouette. Damn him. So precise and control but... so loose. It just looks right, natural.

He turns, coming towards Kylo again, perhaps ready to do another spin—

Kylo lunges at him.

Hux barely has time to react before long arms throw themselves around him, dragging him down. His back takes the brunt of fall and Hux groans as they land.“Ren! Why—”

The rest of his protest dies in his mouth because Kylo is attacking his throat with his plush lips and greedy teeth.

“Because you look fucking amazing,” Kylo rasps and he doesn’t even bother to hide his erection, letting it press snugly into Hux’s hip.

The groan that comes out of Hux’s mouth is very different from the first, now wet and desperate as his head falls against the floor. “How dare you... interrupt me, you bastard...”

Kylo silences him by jutting his hips, rutting against the older man perversely. Hux stiffens and Kylo wonders briefly if he’ll be pushed off. But Hux’s legs widen, inviting his lover closer, arms hooking around his waist. He is mostly still while the younger man rubs up against him, but Kylo can tell Hux is willing to continue by the tilt of Hux’s head and the sigh that leaves his lips. All these little things, imprinted onto Kylo’s brain. Forever.

“As much as I enjoy you dry humping me,” Hux drawls, voice laced heavily with sarcasm (though the tent in his trousers suggests he rather does enjoy it), “if you insist on continuing, may I request we take it to the bedroom?”

“And what if I want to fuck you right here?”

“Must you?”

Kylo raises his head and licks his way into Hux’s mouth. “You fail to realise how perfect you look when you dance. It’s... fuck. It’s breathtaking.”

Hux’s face softens, smiling and almost looking the faintest bit sheepish. “You don’t think it’s...” His brow furrows as he seeks out the right word. “Unbecoming of me?”

Kylo shakes his head, rolling his hips into Hux, earning a hot moan. “You know I love it.”

“My father hated it, never an artistic man. Used to say there was no practicality to it. I somehow managed to convince him it kept me fit—which is true.” Hux grins at the memory, head tilted back thoughtfully. “They didn’t teach it at the Academy, of course. And I was only allowed to be tutored in ballet if my grades remained high.”

“And they did.”

Hux snorts. “Naturally. Top of my class, remember?”

Kylo rolls his eyes. He’s heard this a million times; despite loathing a lot of his time there, Hux is immensely proud of the grades he earned during his schooling. “Did you ever perform? I don’t believe you’ve ever told me.”

The General’s expression looks a little remorseful at the question. “No. That was one thing my father refused to allow. And... I suppose I didn’t want to do so either.” His face twists up scornfully and his smiles grows bitter. “Let’s be realistic; ballet is hardly viewed as masculine. I’d never live it down with me peers. Something father could never allow; believing I wouldn’t gain respect from it.”

“But—then why practice it?”

Arching a brow, Hux laces his fingers through Kylo’s curls. “It was something no one expected of me, something I didn’t expect of myself. I was able to be something different, if only for brief intervals.”

Scrunching up his nose, Kylo tries hard to imagine Hux pursuing a career in dancing. Imagining him at a fancy school dedicated strictly to the arts. Twirling and twisting like ribbon in the breeze, smiling as he leaps across the stage because he’s really and truly happy. Forget the military, hell, forget the Order itself. Just Hux. On the stage. In a skin tight leotard...

Hux smirks, tugging at Kylo’s hair to regain his attention. “Do you realise the ridiculous face you make when you think too hard?”

Kylo hums, pinning Hux’s hands to the floor, either side of his head. “I’m just thinking how pretty you’d look in stockings and a tutu.”

“Fuck you.”

“Yes, please.”

**Author's Note:**

> Come pester me on [Tumblr!](http://thesunandoceanblue.tumblr.com)
> 
> (Also forgive me for the mistakes its late and this just poured out of me)


End file.
